Operation Fortunan Resolve
by Mr. Skiperdoo
Summary: Years after the Lylat conflicts, the once stable planet of Fortuna has fallen into political upheaval. In an effort to maintain Cornerian influence in the region and remove the Fortunan Liberation Front from their tyrannical control, the Cornerian Army seeks the aid of Fox McCloud and his allies in order to help conduct operations for the extensive campaign against the new enemy.
1. Red Flags

Operation Fortunan Resolve

Author's Notes: **Hey everyone, It's me. I'm not going to waste your time because I know you've already made the decision to click on this story, so I'm going to dispense with the silly jokey jokes. I'm essentially writing this story in one way or another to express aspects of the Star Fox universe in at least a semi-realistic way (ok, I know it doesn't matter much, but this IS Star Fox we're talking about here). Call it acceptable breaks from reality or use whatever explanations you've come up with on your own, but one of my main intents in writing this is to separate from the more unrealistic aspects and examine a far more… eh, alright I'll say the b word, BELIEVABLE format.**

**Great, that was probably the most non-specific way I could've said that. For some reason I'm ok with this.**

**And uh… one more thing. Nothing I write in this is supposed to relate in any way to any situation going on anywhere, ok?**

**Anyways, enjoy the story.**

Red Flags

After a devastating number of conflicts had left large portions of the Lylat System in ruins, some feared that it was only the beginning to their struggles. The wars were fought with every available resource that was able to be diverted to the Cornerian effort, but once those wars were over, the entirety of Corneria's armed forces lay broken and had to be restructured from the remnants its former greatness. Support for the army outside of the central planet's reach was getting more difficult for the military's command structure to manage with every passing day; entire units were disbanded or called back from their deployments and had to be returned to their crumpled and disarrayed homes, where they could be more easily stationed.

Sudden disruptions in economic currents had turned once prosperous cities into desolate shadows of their former selves, shattering the hopes of entire colonies and leaving the confused populations unsure where to look for leadership and security. On Zoness, the effects of chemical weapons deployed by Andross in the Great War had left a number of islands essentially uninhabitable, and were to remain so for years to come. On Corneria, an entire civilization had to be rebuilt from the ashes and rubble of its towering structures; it took years, but with well coordinated efforts, and untold amounts of relief movements, the great cities which lit the old lands at night once again displayed their brilliant shine.

But the planet Fortuna, for all its economic stability and relative self-sufficiency, suffered a much different disease from the lingering effects of the conflicts. Political unrest had been dictating the course of local governments for the past few years, and calls for greater autonomy and independence were the buzzwords of debate on either side. Neighbor was pitched against neighbor in a seemingly unending battle between calls for separation from Cornerian influences, and demands for reunification. Unions were divided into administrative conglomerates, administrative conglomerates were separated into republics, and republics were further separated into colonies, no one knew what to do, or what was going to happen next.

And then, he came.

From the once quiet streets of what was generally thought to be one of the smaller colonies rose a new leader with a great vision. His name was at first only mentioned in hushed whispers, and even then, it was only dared spoken of in deep, solitary places. From the relatively unknown reaches of the northern colonies, he gathered up a significant number of forces, armed with the advanced weaponry of their former allies.

They swept through the greater continents like a storm, seizing anything in their path. Base after base fell to their lightning quick tactics, unable to respond in any meaningful way before the military's equipment had been stolen from under their noses. It was not long before large swaths of Fortuna's lands fell to the new splinter faction's control, the now united peoples eagerly welcoming the coming of the new great leader, yet some still feared what they felt was a byproduct of Andross' persisting impact.

Few on the Cornerian side knew how to respond, since political complications made it difficult to tell friend from foe. And since Fortuna was a long way from the main fleet, there was no time to waste if things were to be immediately mobilized in response. The Council of Generals decided that the best action to take was to secure the few Cornerian controlled military bases already stationed on Fortuna, and hope that the political situation would burn itself out after it lost its initial energy.

They were wrong. Fortuna had finally reached its boiling point, a vocal number of its citizens were not going to easily let go of the future they believed had already been secured.

On Corneria, things only get worse from then onwards. Trade to most parts of the planet were effectively cut off, tariffs were established, import was restricted, and relations instantly became hostile. Corneria's forces were spread too thin and were too ill-prepared to fend off the growing resistance.

On Fortuna, chants of the new leadership rang through the streets. The new grand palace which had been formed from the remains of the Cornerian embassy held the target of their praise. A large crowd had gathered in the main square, surrounding the symmetrical building as they lifted up a sea of flags, displaying the proud red banner of what they believed to be their new future.

Though the crowd itself was formed by tens of thousands of unique individuals, they all united in a single chorus of shouts, joyfully proclaiming the revolutionary which had risen from the corners of silence.

They were all praising the name of the new leader, the great one who rose from the darkened shadows of destruction to stand in front of the gathered masses. His name was General Kosi.

He stood tall and proud above the ecstatic crowd, which resounded in a collective cheer the moment he stepped out into the former embassy's balcony area. Waving his outstretched paw in all directions as a sign of his triumph, the amber eyes of the otherwise monochromatic civet glazed over the myriad of supporters congesting the streets. After a couple minutes or so, the noise of the crowd died down, eager to hear the first public announcement of their new premier. Silence and awe filled the hearts of young and old, all eyes descended upon the balcony.

"My friends…" The General began, slowly at first.

"My wonderful friends… I do not need to tell you why you are here, your convictions are what brought you all to this place, your hopes have forced you to witness this momentous occasion. Fortuna has been a symbol of beauty in the Lylat for longer than anyone could look back, but I'm afraid there are some among you whom wish to degrade that beauty and bring it down to the desolate state of their homelands. The shores of southern Zoness or the green fields of mainland Corneria cannot match up to the wilds of Fortuna; the ancients were right when they named this planet after the attributed deity of good fortune and luck, even though they could not see its wondrous riches from where we can witness it now. And no people throughout the Lylat could compare to you, my friends, though many try to break that which holds us together, I'm confident that our resolve is what will allow us to remain as our own."

The civet bathed in the cheers of the crowd which followed the exclamation of his words, until it eventually died out in wait for the leader's next announcement.

"The Cornerian Imperialists wish for us to pay their taxes in order to support the rebuilding of its '_infrastructure'_ and '_necessary long term programs'_…" The general began as murmurs of displeasure weaved throughout the crowd. "But where was _our_ help when the cities of our homeland fell to the darkness of the Aparoidium? The relief which was promised to us by our so-called 'protectors', did not go to our desperate families and their children, but instead funded the power of the same forces whom failed to protect us from this disaster in the first place. Why must we be forced to give our resources to fund this corruption? How much longer can we stand the oppression of this flag?" He pointed upwards and behind him towards the tattered remains of the embassy's last remaining banner of Corneria.

"I say we let this go on no longer! Fortuna has waited long enough for this moment. Now that the time's here, I only ask one thing of those who disagree with the direction that we're taking; leave immediately, before you are considered trespassers in our lands. You have one week to gather your belongings and take them back to your homes on Corneria, after then, I cannot guarantee your safety."

Mixed cries arose from the crowd, cheering him onward with both feelings of both uneasy fear and blinded acceptance.

"Stand strong, my friends! Our work is not done, it has only begun! Soon we will be free; we will be our own nation, our own people! With our resolve, it will be done!" General Kosi spoke powerfully into the accepting crowd. For some time he stood there and waved towards his unbelievable creation, before he retreated from the balcony, taking his trusted guards away with him.

The cheering and demonstrating continued throughout the day, ending with the eventual removal and burning of the Cornerian embassy's flag, which was promptly replaced by the newly designed symbol, which itself was dragged into the roof of the building in an excited frenzy.

For the first time, the flag which flew on what was considered to be Cornerian soil. Its fresh fabric waved loosely in the cool winds of the evening, displaying to everyone its defiant statement.

"Fortuna Fortis."

~X~X~X~X~X~

"Fox! Break left, he's got a lock on you!"

"I'm good!" Fox assured his ally as the bright blast from the enemy ship soared past the curving wing of his aircraft. "He overshot me."

Fox looked over his shoulder to see the opposing fighter zip past him at a high speed. He knew that the poor victim wouldn't be able to turn around in time to evade Fox now, so he instead added full power and began to climb upwards.

Wrong move.

With a well predicted motion, Fox flipped around in a similar manner into the deep blue sky, inverting himself so that his canopy gave him a clear view of his soon to be next kill. The enemy had made the mistake of attempting to escape while flying in a single direction, which Fox used to extrapolate and follow the path of where the enemy's fighter would be when they intersected. All Fox had to do was wait until they were close enough, then he fired his charged shot, and sent the enemy cascading down towards the open ground.

"Splash one dirty Imperialist, Bill."

"Copy Fox, which one was it?"

"Kensington, I think." Fox looked towards the display screen on the lower section of his cockpit which held still a few moments before displaying the name of the eliminated pilot. "Yep, Lt. Kensington." He maneuvered his aircraft downwards and searched for any sign of his wingman's craft. In the distance he could see a couple of fighters weaving around each other, attempting to gain an edge. Fox could judge that the one to his left was his ally by the way his motions mimicked that of their actual enemy's common tactics. He smiled as he saw his friend give the pursuing fighter a little slack on purpose, before turning the maneuver back on him and bringing the fight back to a one-on-one stalemate, thus repeating the process all over again.

"Hey, Bill… need any help?"

"No thanks, I'm good here." Bill replied.

"Just remember, we're here to teach them a lesson, not simply kick their asses."

Fox checked his radar warning receiver, which seemed to be eerily empty save for the two fighters which lay comfortably in his line of sight. He searched around him for any sign of the third fighter, but couldn't see anything beyond the clear sky and the two distant figures dueling it out. Maybe he was accidentally diverted away to a landing position, or maybe he'd gotten lost and couldn't find the skirmishing zone. Just as Fox was about to turn his craft and climb to receive a better view of the action, he noticed a brief flash coming from below him. Instinctively, he swerved his fighter out of the way, narrowly missing a bright green bolt which screamed between the spaces separating his swept wing from the fuselage. So much for situational awareness.

"Masking your signature by using the terrain… good job, Lieutenant." Fox said, knowing very well that no one else could hear him. The enemy fighter had hidden from Fox's sight by hiding below him and hugging the ground, he nearly took the vulpine down by surprise, but the enemy's unwillingness to wait for the right moment to shoot proved unsuccessful. Fox turned his head around to see that the aircraft was still following his tail, only slightly out of range. If he attempted to shoot the vulpine now, it would be easy to deflect his shots with countermeasures.

Fox decided that the next move should test the young pilot's own cunning. As his fighter ascended further into the air, he slowly altered its path until it was pointing straight at the bright star of the Lylat. If his pursuer were to remain trailing him, he would be blinded by the midday sun. Fox knew that is own craft had capabilities that would reduce the glare shone down on him from above, he also knew that his adversary's standard fighter was not measurably equipped for such procedures. Once he was headed straight for the blinding light, he turned back around to see if his tail was still being chased. However, upon searching, he noticed that the enemy fighter had instead ascended to an altitude higher than Fox's and was now lying out of the direction of the bright sun, waiting for the vulpine to make his next move.

Fox smiled, pleased that the opposition had made the right move. "Good… Letting me know you're in control of the situation…" The vulpine directed his eyes towards the ground below him. Perhaps he'd try one more move, and then he'd give the twitchy pilot a chance at his aircraft.

Both fighters were flying fast and low, Fox had taken a chance by diving straight down towards the ground only to pull up moments before becoming part of an artificial crater in the otherwise calm grassy fields. It was difficult for the opposing pilot to maintain pursuit, but Fox could easily see the he was giving his best and adjusting his position in response to wherever Fox pushed his craft. The vulpine pushed back on his stick in order to execute an Immelmann turn, looping upwards halfway before inverting himself back to a leveled position. Expecting the enemy fighter to overcompensate and fail to maneuver around him, Fox was surprised to see his adversary closing in on him with utmost precision.

"Uh oh…" Fox said to himself before attempting to turn away from the incoming threat. Try as hard as he could though, the enemy had anticipated the sharp turn and was able to counter any attempt Fox made at evasion. Once the enemy knew he was close enough, he released a number of shots in the vulpine's direction, a few of them managed to hit, but they were enough to engage the warning lights on the edges of Fox's ship.

"Splash one bandit!" Fox could hear the excited yell of the young pilot from his multi-channel radio. Fox noticed his pursuer break off from his tail, now that Fox had been 'shot down'.

"I'm sorry Comrade Grey, but I've failed you! These Cornerian dogs got a lock on me, they're just too good!" Fox informed his still viable wingman, poorly attempting to mimic a somewhat simian sounding speech pattern.

"Copy that McCloud. You're efforts towards the Glorious Cause will not be forgotten. Today you will meet with the Eternal General. Praise be to the Eternal General!"

"Yeah, praise be to the Eternal General, whatever… ok I'm dead now." Fox switched the receiver to the 'off' position, now he wouldn't be able to communicate or interfere with the rest of the operation. The two pilots would usually attempt to have a little fun while playing adversaries, so much so to that they would even pretend to speak back and forth to each other in ways they assumed that any hypothetical enemy would. Even though technically he wasn't affiliated inside the ranks of the Cornerian Army, he was glad that they had offered him the opportunity to use his skills in order to train the new generations after he'd disbanded the rest of his team.

The vulpine gave a deep sigh before deciding to head back to the airbase, now that his work for the day was over. The journey, which was stretched out through an open section of plains designated as the MOA (Military Operations Area), would only take a few minutes at his current speed; he could already see the large hardened aircraft shelters lying against the backdrop of the surrounding mountains. He was somehow glad to be out of the fight and in a comfortable position, but even more relieved to see that the adversary training for today had been a resounding success.

"Pepper Base tower, this is Red Flag one, announcing departure from the MOA, over."

"Message received, Red Flag one, departure from MOA confirmed. When you're ready to land, Contact Pepper Base approach on 121.7, over…"

~X~X~X~X~X~

Less than an hour later, the two veteran pilots were back inside the confines of the airbase. Sitting alone at a briefing table, they went over their last set of evaluations of the aspiring aviators. "Good, now that that's finished, let's move onto final evaluations." Bill said, changing his focus to the final set of scores that he and Fox had averaged for the three trainees.

"Lt. Kensington…" Fox prompted, removing the profile of the young pilot out from his folder. "What's your verdict?"

"Not sure, I didn't see him much, but I did notice that move he made back in the beginning, gave me a quick surprise." Bill commented.

"True, although my encounter with him proved… unsatisfactory. His maneuvers were executed too few and too late, he didn't attempt to use the position of his wingman to his advantage, which is what he should've done the moment I crossed his six."

"Hmm… your conclusion?"

"Referring him to an advisory board… I have a feeling he's had problems getting along with the rest of his squadron."

"I agree, advisory board it is…" Bill surveyed the profiles of the two remaining pilots, picking up the small portrait of the one which was chasing after him through most of the fight. "Lt. Noles, he's the one that kept trying to turn inside of me before he figured out he needed the right corner speed. He shot close to me a couple of times, but never made it, his friend finally had to come and finish me off."

"I noticed you two having one-on-one, he seems competent, but could probably use some work on his directional awareness."

"My conclusion for him is a pass, I know I was giving him a hard time there and most pilots wouldn't have pulled the same moves I did there. He had some skills out there that I know can't be taught, he's certainly got a lot of potential."

"Ok then, pass it is…" Fox wrote in the conclusion for the trainee under his evaluation form. It read, "_Good display of skills, needs a little more work on maneuvering, suitable for next phase". _

"And that brings us to Lt. Gandt… I believe he's the one that took you, and I down."

Fox nodded. "He was, he showed excellent degrees of knowledge and skill, and was able to intercept my fighter with careful precision. He even surprised me when he decided to use the terrain to his advantage; I couldn't find him anywhere until he nearly shot me down from behind. From then on, he proved a most capable challenge." Fox leaned back in his chair. "Though I could've taken him if I really wanted to…"

Bill gave a brief chuckle in response. "You're telling me… I was still busy with Lt. Noles when he showed up out of nowhere and swept through my front, I swear he missed me at least fifty times, but somehow, the simulator registered it as a hit…"

"You know Bill, I'm pretty sure you're the only one to ever complain about a faulty simulator mechanic…"

"Not true! Everyone else has noticed it too! But they only talk about it when you're not around!" The bulldog joked, nudging Fox in the shoulder.

"Yes, well… anyways… my verdict on Lt. Gandt is also a pass."

"Agreed." Bill then proceeded to write down his conclusion.

"_Satisfactory."_

The two continued to talk about the recent groups of recruits until they'd exhausted every encounter they made. Today was the last batch of trainees to report for air-to-air combat training for at least the next two weeks, which opened up a number of possible activities, he'd be able to pursue with his new mate. For a few moments, Fox ignored the words coming from Bill and though only about his plans in the near-future, images of him sitting with the beautiful vixen while they stood atop a deck overlooking a large mountainous ridge clouded his mind.

"McCloud… Fox, you hear me?"

"Huh? What?" The vulpine shook away the approaching stream of fantasy from his mind.

"The air show tomorrow… are you going to be there?"

"Uh, no. I already told them I wasn't participating this year."

"Hmm, that's fine. It's always nice to fly above cheering crowds, makes you really remember that others appreciate what you're doing… It's only, I wanted to ask abou-"

At that moment, the door the secure briefing room flung open. In walked a nervous looking sergeant dressed in full uniform, saluting to Bill.

"Commander Grey, McCloud…"

"Yes? What is it? Is it urgent?" Bill replied, getting up from his seat.

"No sir… not really. It's just that… I think you two should come and see something."

"Alright then… Fox?"

"I'm coming."

The vulpine followed the others out of the briefing room, making sure that they'd secured the documents pertaining to the pilots in training first. They both made their way through the tight hallway until they reached the part of the base which was not devoted to operations. They entered a relatively open leisure room, which contained a large number of symmetrically placed chairs and tables. Over to the side of the room were a number of pilots and other soldiers whom had packed themselves together in front of the room's sole television screen.

"What's going on?" Fox asked but received no direct reply. Instead, his eyes fell upon the images being displayed on the wide monitor, and the news anchor's commentary which followed.

"_As you can all see from these images, demonstrations in the main capital of Northern Fortuna have recently become violent, as Fortunan Liberation Front forces demanded that action be taken against the number of citizens there whom they believe have strong ties to Corneria. Already in the recent days, the FLF has taken a number of Cornerian bases which were previously controlled by hybrid forces under Corneria's Cooperative Control initiatives. Now General Kosi and his newly risen army has announced that it wishes to sever all ties with the Cornerian government in hopes of establishing a completely independent union."_

"Bastards…" Bill muttered to himself, though only loud enough so that Fox could hear.

The images on the screen panned to a top-down view of flag carrying marchers enforcing their will in the central streets of Fortuna's larger cities._"In a statement released only hours ago by the General himself, he called for the immediate removal of all Cornerian owned assets and properties, as well as the expulsion of those who may even be retaining dual citizenship. So far, we have no knowledge of any strategic plans which Cornerian forces may be preparing in response to the crisis, all action taken up to this point has merely been to regroup and defend, and it's unsure what level of action could be leveled against General Kosi's front in the coming days and weeks."_

Bill shook his head in disbelief. "I don't understand… why did it come to this point? What do they really want?"

"Sounds like they want to be left alone…" Fox answered to the best of his limited knowledge on the subject.

"They don't want to be left alone, they want to be noticed, they want to make sure we know they mean business, that's why they're doing all this. They couldn't organize themselves for any meaningful cause before, now it seems the only thing bringing them together is hatred for any hint of Cornerian support."

"Couldn't they just stop supporting Corneria without making these sweeping changes?"

Bill had started to pace away from the leisure room, but stopped and turned around midway in order to face Fox. "It's not that simple, you see… our bases there are set up to protect the Fortunan populace against any forms of aggression… the problem is that General Kosi and his Liberation Front don't count as legitimate Fortunan armed forces, and are therefore technically enemies of what Corneria recognizes to be the true governance of Fortuna…"

"Which means that they're our enemies as well." Fox concluded succinctly.

"Right, but even then it's not that simple. Now that the Liberation Front controls a number of hybrid army assets and personnel, the lines have become blurred. It's not like we can just level the bases since when all things are accounted for, they still belong to our allies in the region. It's not that they want to overthrow the Fortunan establishment; in their minds they can't because they believe that they have a rightful place as Fortuna's foremost leadership, and that all forms of Cornerian influence are void."

"That's just great… I could never get into politics, too many meaningless words and useless treaties thrown around like gum wrappers. Plus, I never grew too attached to any area other than here. Even voting has always been a pain in ass since I used to always move from place to place, and don't even get me started on trying to explain the reason I had an explanatory residence that wasn't on a licensed space station, and yet somehow appeared with large sums of money at irregular intervals to the Cornerian government."

Bill smiled, pacing alongside the vulpine. "Did they think you were a roaming marauder?"

"No, a thousand times worse… tax evader."

The two pilots made their way down the nearby hallway, where numerically sorted doors separated the rooms at equal distances across from each other. Most of the recently constructed airbase was built in this way, with each division holding its own number of conference rooms, briefing rooms, and over towards to the hangers, maintenance rooms.

"Listen, Fox… I have a meeting scheduled soon with the higher-ups real soon, ten minutes or so… going to be a big security talk, definitely going to be boring as hell, but it's not likely I'll be very involved in the discussion."

The vulpine was sort of surprised to hear Bill suddenly announce an event such as this. He was usually informed about such things going on around the base, but since he wasn't directly military he wasn't given much detail as to what went on in them other than what Bill would occasionally tell him.

"Well, ok then… I'll see you later, Bill."

The veteran pilot turned back to Fox, pointing directly towards him. "I'm still coming over to your place for dinner tonight?"

"Of course…"

~X~X~X~X~X~

"You know, Mrs. McCloud, I think this is the best spaghetti I've ever had…" Bill informed the blue vixen, digging into the bowl of noodles violently with his fork.

Krystal blushed at the much welcomed compliment. "Why, thank you. I grow my own tomatoes in a small patch out back; we usually have so much that we don't know what to do with them."

"So, she adds them to basically everything…" Fox said, relishing in his own enjoyment of the home-cooked meal.

Krystal smiled. "It's true…"

"If it's anything as good as this, you should invite me to come over more often." Bill half-joked.

"And eat _all_ our food?" Fox returned, noticing that the bulldog had devoured a larger portion of the meal than both he and Krystal combined. The three broke into a brief moment of laughter, before Bill's mouth was stuffed once more and unable to emit any sound.

After the recessive drop into relative silence, Krystal found it appropriate to speak up and move into a discussion about less trivial topics. "So, Bill… I heard you and Fox just finished the next round of recruits today."

"Sure did, Fox and I gave them a good old test of courage before sending them off into the real world… I'm sure they'll all do fine." Bill answered with a calm sense of assurance.

"It's great that the new General's allowed Fox to be an adversary pilot, I always felt like he wanted to play the bad guy sometimes…" The vixen smiled back at her mate. "When are you two scheduled to receive the next group?"

Bill took a moment to answer. There was something keeping him from confronting the question in a direct manner. "Well… the next group is scheduled about two weeks from now… but…" Bill's nervous expression held tightly onto pained and confused words struggling to free themselves from silence. "But the thing is… I'm not scheduled to be on the next red flag operations."

"You're not?" Fox and Krystal seemed to utter simultaneously.

"No… but it's complicated… I've received new orders, just a temporary reassignment. Earlier today, when I was in the officer's meeting, something came up. I was expecting it to move on as usual, but I was surprised to have a lot of the focus fall on me…"

"What's… your assignment if I may ask?" Fox wondered, letting go of his fork and allowing it to slide back into the bowl.

"The General… he wants me to go to Fortuna…" Bill spilled the information out in a fragmented stuttering.

"Fortuna?" Fox repeated, a bewildered look lining his muzzle.

"Yeah… as I said, it's a temporary thing, don't know how long it could be… could be a few weeks, could be months. It all depends on how the situation over there develops."

"But, Bill…" Fox attempted to utter more words to confront his friend's sudden revelation, but he knew not what to say in response to the tense situation.

"I'll be leaving within the next few days… next week at the absolute latest."

Fox took a deep breath. The situation on Fortuna had just hit home, before it was a distant problem that hadn't involved him much, but now, one of his closest friends was going to be directly involved in whatever conflict was about to ensue.

"But Fox, that wasn't all that the General asked of me…" Bill's sentence trailed off into an area shrouded with care and a hint of restraint.

"What… else did he say?"

Bill took a long pause before continuing. His eyes failed to make contact with either of them, maintaining instead a frozen gaze on the mostly finished bowl of spaghetti. He prepared his next set of words with heavy thought.

"The General requested another thing in addition to my reassignment." Bill slowed his speech. "He… he wants you to come with me."

A distinctive clatter echoed through the room as Krystal's fork fell to the floor. She leaned down to pick it up, but Fox had already lifted it off the ground before she managed to extend a paw.

"He wants me… to be deployed with you?" Fox asked for any sign of confirmation from his comrade.

Bill nodded, looking somewhat ashamed at his request. "You don't have to come, Fox. You're not obligated to like I am. This decision relies solely on you. You're not part of the army… you can't be forced to go."

Krystal leaned in from across the table and embraced Fox in a rush of pure emotion. In her tight hold, Fox could barely see a faint tear slide down from the corner of her closed eyes.

"Shh… It's ok… It's ok… everything's going to be fine…" He assured her, brushing his paw soothingly across her back. "Don't worry about me."

Bill moved his right paw outwardly towards the two foxes. "If you need some time to think about it, Fox, I can wait until tomorrow…" He furthered, trying to relieve the pressure of their current state.

"No, no that's fine Bill… I already know how I'm going to decide. I don't think I could remain here and watch as all those around me leave to follow the call of duty. I don't want to sit around every day knowing that I had the opportunity right in front of my paws and I still let it go. There's no question, those people on Fortuna need my help… need our help. I'm going."

Krystal sank back into her seat, quiet and holding back sobbing tears. At this point she didn't know how to react.

"The only problem this presents us with is the question of who's going to replace us as adversary pilots… I mean, we already have a number of experienced pilots being transferred over to Fortu-"

"I can do it…" Krystal interjected forcefully. "I can be the trainer… I already work at the base as an air traffic controller, I know all the procedures and I already have established connections with the leadership there… plus, I'm an experienced pilot."

"You're right… I didn't even consider that…" Bill admitted. "Thanks Krystal… I'll be sure to recommend you to the advisory board whenever I get the chance." He continued with an eager smile.

Amidst the chaos, Fox spoke up, intending to relieve some of the unsure thoughts going through everyone's head. "I know none of us here planned to drop our lives and rework our hopes in order to fit the grim reality, but… things change… we'll have to make the best of it."

"That's real good to hear, Fox. It's getting kind of late, I think it's about time I head back home. Oh! And thanks for the wonderful meal, Krystal." Bill said, sitting up from his position on the table.

"You're welcome. Any time."

Fox and Bill headed towards the door. Bill's car could be seen parked in the nearby driveway. "You're sure about this, Fox. Once you commit to this, you can't back down…"

"I'm sure." Fox answered without hesitation.

"Alright, we're in this thing together." Bill said under muffled breaths, patting Fox on the shoulder. He was about to exit through the front door when again his memory prompted him to stop. "One more thing, Fox… now that you've accepted there's another door that's been opened for us."

Fox tilted his head partially to one side. "What do you mean?"

Bill gave a quick grimace before returning to an indifferent expression. "It's… about tomorrow, the air show."

"I already said I wasn't participating this year."

"I know, I know. But the thing is, it doesn't have anything to do with you. Not initially, I mean."

"What are you implying Bill?"

"I hear there's a new act that's sweeping the system. I know it might not fascinate you as much, but it's still an opportunity to… expand upon our current situation." The bulldog continued, vague as ever. He removed a paper brochure out from his pocket and handed it to Fox. "I expect to see you there tomorrow…" He said before making his way past the door, closing it behind him.

"Fox? I think I'm going to head up to bed." Krystal informed the vulpine from across the entryway, halfway up the nearby staircase.

"Oh? Ok… I'll be up there soon, just… going to clean a few things up." Fox spoke back to his mate, hoping there wasn't much work involved in this cleaning endeavor. He threw the brochure onto the dinner table and picked the nearest empty bowl of spaghetti off of its glass surface, though the moment he began to turn away, a distinctive name glittered from the printed words onto the corner of his eye. The examined the folded advertisement closer, noticing the bold letters encapsulating the title of tomorrow's main event.

"_Looping Lombardi?" _

Bill ducked his head under the roof of his car and slid inside. He took a moment to collect his thoughts before moving his paws to the touch screen on the central console. Instantly, the device flashed to life, displaying a number of features available for the canine to play with. However, the pilot opted for something simple and comparatively primitive to the advanced options adorning the screen, he initiated a call.

"Hello?"

"General? It's me, Commander Grey."

"Ah, Commander, how goes it?"

"He's in."

~X~X~X~X~X~

Author's Notes: **Yup, things 'bout to get real.**


	2. Stalled

Stalled

"We have no other option, we need to take action now!" An old officer loudly exclaimed from behind his position on the long wooden conference table. The council of generals had just convened in the secure war room to discuss how to deal with the situation in Fortuna. So far, there had been little resolution, and most debate had descended to the level of frustration.

"I understand we need to do something, but I can't mobilize any forces until we fully know what we're dealing with." The younger, but higher-ranking general cautioned, not wanting to jump into anything unprepared. "General Kosi's forces are moving too fast to establish clear targets, and even then, most of their assets belong to the hybrid forces, so even if we take them out, we're eliminating what we've worked so hard to establish... not to mention all the stockpiles."

"Stockpiles?" The older officer asked with a curious tone in his strained voice.

"Yes, the EM warheads we built up after the Aparoid conflict. They were the only measurably effective conventional weapons we could deploy against them, so after the campaign, we established huge stockpiles mostly in the northern regions of Fortuna in case they ever came back. But now that Kosi's taken many of them over, he has the potential to use them against us once we make our move."

"I see. General Sommers, do these weapons pose any significant threat to Corneria?"

The young general took a deep and thoughtful breath. Ever since General Pepper retired, a lot of pressure had been placed on him as leader of the Cornerian Armed Forces, and now he had to prove himself. He was elected to his position under much controversy, as he was among the youngest to ever reach such a high level, and many believed he'd only been nominated because of his actions during The Great Lylat War.

General Sommers nodded his head in reply to his direct subordinate. "No, they don't pose any threat, not directly at least. Kosi doesn't have the ability to load them onto IPBMs, and even if he did, he wouldn't have any desire to attack us. His goals are restricted to Fortuna, and the only reason he'd have for deploying them would be to stop an incoming fleet of our ships. These weapons were designed to take out large concentrated swarms of Aparoids, not attack cities. However, they could also be used to repel any large-scale counterattack."

"So... that's why you're not mobilizing the main fleet?"

"Yes, if General Kosi knew we were coming, and deployed the EM weapons, it could effectively cripple our fleet with just a few well placed munitions. That's why my plan is to go in there with a small number of forces that can conduct precision strikes at a moment's notice." General Sommers' gaze fell to the surrounding collection of officers sitting around him.

An officer who had been carefully listening to the dialogue spoke up and broke the silence. "Well if anything is for sure, it's that we need to do something soon. Kosi's forces are gaining more ground each day, taking bases and stockpiles with them. We need to help our allies in Fortuna before we don't have any allies left. The sooner we can push back against Kosi's advance, the more we can recover from this mess."

Another voice which had been quiet throughout most of the discussion spoke up. "General Sommers, whats the status of those... consultants you were considering earlier?" 

"I have one who accepted my offer last night... McCloud, I'm sure many of you are familiar with him. The second one was a former associate of his, Falco Lombardi. I expect to hear from him later today."

"Lombardi?" One of the officers repeated, a somewhat confused look on him. "You don't mean, Loopin' Lombardi?" 

General Sommers sighed, staring down at his notes. He knew the answer would be met with controversy, but it had to be told.

"Yes."

~X~X~X~X~X~

'_Come see Loopin' Lombardi, the fantastic ace pilot sensation sweeping the Lylat. This grizzled war veteran will be performing fantastic stunts and aerial maneuvers for one day only, come see him while you still have the chance!'_

"Grizzled war veteran?" Fox scratched his head. "I've been called a lot of things during the years, but never that."

"Hmm? Well, you'll always be my grizzled war veteran." Krystal said, nudging her head against Fox's shoulder as the two paraded down the air show grounds.

"You know, on second thought, grizzled war veteran makes me sound old... please don't call me that." The two walked down a sloping pathway before approaching what appeared to be a tightly gathered crowd of excited onlookers, who were all waiting for the show that was scheduled to begin soon.

"See? I told you we should have gotten here earlier." Krystal informed Fox, playfully slapping him on his arm. "I bet the only seats left at this point are greasier than a fuel station pizza."

"That's ok, I'm sure we can still get a good view from here." The orange vulpine assured, hoping that the aircraft in question wouldn't be flying too low for them to see it.

Fox felt a sudden movement break the grip he and his mate were holding. Running and jumping and making all sorts of strange noises was a group of loudly playing children, rushing through as they pretended to fly a squadron of toy fighters and shoot at each other with them as they guided them in their outstretched paws.

"Someone seems excited... you think they're all here to see Falco?" Fox asked.

"Probably, judging by the shirts they're wearing."

"What? What shirts?"

Krystal gave a subdued laugh. "Didn't you see? They have the image of Falco's Arwing superimposed on the background of what looks to be a coronal mass ejection."

"Really? Huh... I never got my own t-shirt... did I?"

Krystal shook her head. "No, I've checked."

Eventually the couple came to the edge of where the tightly packed group of waiting onlookers formed against the airfield fence. Fearing that they'd be unable to get any better view, they hovered around the outside of the gathering mass and stood there until Falco's event was due to begin.

"He's supposed to be starting now, isn't he?" Krystal asked Fox, as he was the only one who had easy access to the time.

"Any minute now. Though for him it's characteristic to be late."

"Where's he supposed to be coming from?"

"Not sure, but if what I know of him is correct..." Fox paused mid-sentence as he saw a majority of the group begin to turn around and point at the sky. The vulpine barely had any time to react before he was nearly thrown to the ground by the mere force of the low flying fighter. He could almost feel the heat from its engine exhaust as it pulled upwards and climbed into blue sky, twirling around in a fantastic spiral as it went.

'_And there he is! Loopin' Lombardi!'_

"Fox! Are you hurt?" Krystal asked, rushing to Fox's side to help pull him up.

"No, I'm fine, just my survival instinct kicking in." Fox answered, brushing the dirt off his pants.

Meanwhile, soaring over the crowd at high speeds, Falco made is best to demonstrate his aerobatic abilities by performing a number of tight turns and physics defying twists that made practically everyone point and cheer in blind adoration. After about a minute of warm-up, Falco executed his signature loops, leaving a colored trails of smoke behind his path wherever he went.

"Oh, come on, they think that's impressive?" Fox commented as he laid his paw out towards the bulk of the crowd.

"It was a well performed maneuver. I'd say those circles are almost entirely non-elliptical." Krystal admitted, gazing at the trails of gas left behind.

Falco then began to go through a similar routine as before, yet this time, many of his movements were instead inverted. The crowd cheered with the same enthusiasm, many failing to realize that they'd just witnessed the exact same maneuvers in the exact same order.

"Oh come on! He's just doing the same thing as last time!" Fox pointed out. "Where's the variety, the pizazz?"

Falco continued his routine of precisely patterned loops and twirls, carrying the crowd with him through the rhythms of his movements. 

"I'm sure to him it feels different, I mean, I'd have some difficulty doing some of those moves either way, and he's doing them upside-down."

"Yeah, but at least you like to try out different maneuvers every once in a while. Something doesn't feel right, it feels too predictable."

"Maybe he's just copying you." Krystal said with a casual smirk. 

The two foxes paused as the loud announcer once again echoed his voice over the speakers. '_And now, the moment you've all been waiting for; the amazing Loopin' Lombardi will now perform a daring attempt never before seen outside of Zoness. While still moving at high speeds, Lombardi will attempt to make a landing on a mobile docking platform with just one active arresting mechanism!'_

"What? Seriously? That's supposed to be impressive?" Fox exclaimed, a large part of his pride not wanting to give his former associate the credit that he deserved.

'_While upside-down!'_

"Figures..."

The crowd gave a collective roar as 'Loopin' Lombardi's' craft made its way across the nearby field at a high velocity. Although Fox's reaction was considerably less, a small part inside him did admit that it was a somewhat rousing performance. From then on, the attention shifted to a nearby barge which contained a protruding platform under it. The way these things worked meant that Falco would have to time things perfectly if he were able to land on it; not only would he be approaching it at a high speed, but he'd also have to hit everything just right while being inverted, which anyone could judge was not going to be an easy task.

"Do you think he'll be able to do it?" Krystal wondered, switching her sight between the landing platform and Falco's Arwing.

"Of course he will. These things were built to handle craft much heavier than his. Besides, he's probably rehearsed it at least a thousand times by now."

Every eye went from one side of the field to the other, as Falco's craft closed in on its inevitable target. The approach seemed to go on for much longer than it actually did, as each precise movement became visible at such a short distance.

"He's going too fast, it won't be able to stop him." Fox noted.

"He's almost there!" Krystal bounced up and down in an eager.

"Slow down, damn it!"

The crowd grew oddly silent as the two ships approached each other. Everyone's focus was on the daring pilot and his equally daring attempt at a landing. Fox's muscles tensed as the speeding aircraft caught the solitary arresting beam that lay strewn across the landing platform. Falco's ship came to an immediate halt and then was thrown up towards the magnetic locking mechanism. The crowd broke into screams as smoke and other signs of stress poured out of the landing zone to reveal Falco's fighter situated squarely on the intended target. 

"Well, that was exciting..." Fox watched as the ship was carried off towards the direction of the hangers. "Wasn't sure he'd manage to go through with it for a second there."

"Oh, that was great, wasn't it Fox? Aren't you proud of him?"

"Proud of him? What is he, my son? I'm surprised he kept the show to five minutes, any longer and everyone would've gotten bored and walked away."

"Fox... you don't be so hard on him, he did well. At least he's getting into trouble these days, I'm sure there's some good to be found in that." Krystal reminded him, knowing that Fox's competitive nature would keep him from admitting the degree of skill in Falco's performance. "Besides, it's not like you two are still fighting each other to end up on top, you already kicked his ass into submission a long time ago." 

"Yeah, I know..." Fox led Krystal away from the dispersing crowd. "It's just... I don't know, I guess you're right. It was pretty good." The two walked paw in paw towards the hanger area, dodging swarms of playing children as they went.

"Though I certainly *cough**cough* could've done better."

"Oh Fox..."

~X~X~X~X~X~ 

Falco stepped over the side of his Arwing and hopped down onto the ground. The rest of his crew got to work pulling the unarmed fighter back into its hanger. He exchanged a few high-fives with the passing air show directors before retreating to the administrative office close by.

At first, he'd been unwilling to lead such a life of performance and showmanship instead of what he believed to be actual 'work', but once the fame, the publicity, and especially the money began to pour in, there was little he could do to resist. This life had allowed him to establish a separate identity from Star Fox, one that was guided and controlled only by number one. Things were certainly different now, he flew his own path, created his own plans, and everywhere he went, he was cheered on by adoring fans both young and old.

Upon entering the office, he threw the outer layer of his flight suit onto a nearby table; this space had been given to him for the week as a special guest, and he took many liberties with keeping it clean and organized. No one was going to tell him what do, not while he had the leverage of putting on a show.

He paused for a moment after hearing the door open up behind him. He was surprised when he turned around to see who'd entered.

"Hey, I told you I wasn't going to be on for tomorrow, I- Fox?" Falco froze, not knowing what else to say.

The two remained in awkward silence for a while until the vulpine broke the tense stalemate. "Hi, Falco."

"Uhm... wow, I didn't know if you'd come, I didn't see you on the schedul-"

"It's great to see you too, Falco." Fox interrupted.

"Yeah... so... what has Fox McCloud been up to recently?" Falco asked, trying to maintain some semblance of friendly conversation.

"You didn't come to my wedding..." Fox forwarded, a sharp look in his eyes.

"Oh... I... forgot about that... when was it?"

"Five months ago..."

Falco took a deep sigh. "I don't think there's any excuse for that... I'm sorry."

"You came to Slippy's wedding, what's the deal with that?"

"Oh, yeah, um... I was in the area already... we also had this kind of bet thing going for years and he won. By the way, what's he have now, like fifteen kids?"

"Two."

"Right, close enough. Just so you know, I applaud your decision to finally settle down with Krystal, but for me, I'm going to stay free."

"You're never going to get back with Katt?"

"Monroe? No, she's... I mean we..." Falco tried to express his feelings, but his disorganized movements only made him less sure of what he was trying to say. "The whole Star Falco experiment didn't last long, I didn't know we were supposed to have all these licenses and things if we wanted to run our own operation."

"So, being leader wasn't all it was cracked up to be?"

"It's wasn't just that, it was..." Falco's words ceased. "I don't want to talk about it. It's all in the past now, I'd like it to stay there."

"That's alright. You seem to be doing fine now."

"You're telling me. I should really have done this years ago. Everywhere I go people seem to know my name, every time I headline an event, crowds come from all over to see me. I don't have to listen to anyone, I can make my own routines, I can be my own boss..."

"I'm glad for you. Your Arwing does seem to be showing some signs of age, but it's still flying well."

"It's been through a lot, though I don't have any weapons loaded onto it anymore." Falco stared outside the office window to see the ground crew working on loading the Arwing away into the enclosed hanger bay. "Hey, did you still have the Great Fox?" He asked, curious to know the state of their former home.

Fox shook his head. "No, sold it back a while ago. It wouldn't have lasted much longer in it's current state without Slippy around to fix everything. It's also nice to have a house on the ground that's already paid for, now I have more money than I know what to do with."

"It sounds like things worked out better than we expected." Falco watched the crew outside of the office move in and out of the hangers in order to transport the newly arrived aircraft. "What have you been up to, Fox?"

"I've been flying adversary for new trainees. Making sure they're ready before heading off into the real deal. I'm surprised they allowed me to do it since I'm more of a consultant than anything else, but I'm glad either way. Just yesterday Bill told me that you'd be around here, that's when I decided to drop in."

"So is that why you came here Fox? To say hi? There's got to be something more." Falco wondered, his expression showing an increased level of curiosity.

Fox shifted his feet. He was worried he approached him in the wrong way it could mess everything up entirely. "There was another thing I intended to ask you about. Have you... heard about the current situation on Fortuna?"

"Yeah, bunch of buildings getting burned, guys getting kicked out. What's it got to do with me?"

"Yesterday Bill told me that he'd received orders to head over there. He also asked if I could accompany him over there, and I said yes."

"You said yes? Fox you didn't have to..."

Fox stretched his arm out to halt Falco's words. "That wasn't all though. This ties in with him informing me of you and the air show."

Falco contemplated the meaning of Fox's sentiment, and once he understood, he became immediately defensive. "No, no no, Fox, what are you-"

"He wanted to know if you'd come with us."

Falco remained silent, simply staring blankly at the vulpine in confusion.

"Me? You want me?" Falco broke into laughter, slamming into the table to relieve the inner tension. "You want me to go with you on wild adventures to Fortuna? Ooh! The Star Fox team is getting back together!" He mocked, saying it more as if it were a joke than anything else.

"You know what, Fox? No."

Fox motioned a sad nod, but he had to expect such a reaction. "I understand what you're thinking Falco, if you need more time-"

"No, I don't need more time to think about it. Fox, for the first time in my life I feel like I'm in something stable. Wherever I go, I'm cheered on by the thousands, little kids wear t-shirts with my name on it!" 

"Falco, if you'd listen for-"

"No I'm not listening to you, Fox, you're not my boss anymore. I'm making my own decisions now, and no one tells me what to do." Falco shot back with an almost violent sneer. "Why did you even accept, huh? It's not like you need the money, you've got a beautiful mate, you've got a home, why leave it? It is because of your honor? Is that why? I thought you were smarter than that."

"Falco it's not that simple. This whole thing is much greater than me, I can't be thinking only of my comfort and my life, there are millions of Fortunans who will be affected by the situation, and I can't let this go on while I sit and watch."

Falco paused, then he nodded. "I get you. You're not the kind to leave an opportunity like this behind."

"So, final answer?"

"I'm not going, unless..." An ingenious thought crossed Falco's mind. He smiled, amazed at his own ability to turn a request in on itself. "Yeah, yeah... heh heh..."

"What? What's so funny?" Fox wondered.

"Tomorrow's going to be the last day of the air show. The audience expects something big, something dramatic to finish everything off. It just so happened that a prime time slot for tomorrow afternoon opened up recently, one of the old pilots skipped out on his medications and he won't be available. Now I do have a certain level of influence when it comes to changing the schedule... yeah, yeah, this sounds right..."

"What are you talking about?"

"I can hear the announcer now, 'Come see this once in a lifetime event! Two ace pilots head to head in a close range match. The final battle to decide the best!'" Falco exclaimed, making wide gestures with an overtly loud voice.

"Falco? Are you serious?" Fox replied, unsure if the bird would continue on with his zany scheme. It wasn't merely that Falco had caught him off guard with his suggestion, but it was also that Fox felt deep inside that he may not be ready to face him. Neither had been engaged in true combat for a while, though Fox definitely had the technical advantage since he'd been training others to deal with such events.

"Dead serious. Those ships you use for adversary training come with short range guns, correct? There's no chance the crowd will be in any real danger?"

"Well... no, not if we fly over a certain height-"

"Then it's decided. We fly the same fighters, fight with the same weapons, and the first one to get hit three times loses." Falco proclaimed, laying out the standards for the ultimatum. "If you win, I'll join you on your little adventure, but when I win, you... you..."

"What?"

"I don't know... I haven't thought that far. But trust me, I don't need anything from you at this point. Tomorrow everything will be decided, there's nothing else to discuss."

Fox began to walk towards the door of the small building. "I'll be here tomorrow then, ready to fight." 

"You better be, Fox..." Falco said as his former employer walked out of the office, leaving the pilot to himself.

~X~X~X~X~X~

It was the last day at the air show, the weather was much less clear than it had been the day before, but it didn't obscure anything to the point where the show itself was affected. It was well past noon, and all the warm-up routines and displays of military prowess had given way to the exciting exhibitions which dominated the following lineup. Though it was met with a slight bit of confusion by the administrators, Falco's demand was hastily pasted in the schedule as one of the final events for the day, and judging by the size of the crowd that had gathered below the scene of where the battle was to take place, it was an extremely wise decision.

Fox and Bill rounded the corner to the hanger area where the two identical fighters lay in waiting. As they moved closer to the inactive aircraft, they saw Falco pacing around the underside, examining each one to see that their specifications were the exact same. He noticed the two pilots heading towards him, and as he saw them approaching, he smiled widely.

"So, you showed up. You had me worried there for a second."

"I see you're admiring the fighters. Better do it now, since I'll be behind you while we're in the air." Fox returned, a similarly constructed smile ran across his muzzle.

"It's nice to see you too, Bill." Falco continued, turning towards the bulldog. "It's been some time."

"Same here. After today we should be seeing a lot more of each other." Bill commented, referencing the wager that the two had set forward.

"Heh, very funny. You know, Fox, I think I finally decided on what I'm going to receive when I win."

Fox cocked an eyebrow. "Does it involve me removing any of my clothing?"

"What? No..." Falco reassured, mentally scratching off his immediate plans. "Look, Fox, in all honesty, it's not something you're going to dislike, it's just..."

"Alright, you don't need to tell me, you won't be able to go through with it anyways."

Falco rolled his eyes, then walked towards one of the fighters which had earlier been assigned to him. "At least try and survive for a couple minutes, McCloud, we don't want the spectators to get angry."

"I'm only worried about how devastated they'll be when the grizzled war veteran loses in front of their eyes."

Falco shot back, seemingly taking a great deal of offense at the playful statement.

"Alright, you two know the rules right?" Bill began, turning to both pilots. "Once the match starts, you get one free pass, once you cross, the fight begins. Try not to fly to close to the spectators, and stay within the airfield boundaries, remember, you guys are technically armed, I don't want you weaving through the city causing all sorts of havoc."

"Understood." Fox answered.

"Yeah, whatever, let's get on with this." Falco demanded, heading over towards his waiting fighter.

"First one hit three times loses." Bill said only a moment before Falco had sealed the transparent shielding above his seat.

"Well, Bill, here I go..." Fox said, turning towards the empty seat of his aircraft with a deep breath. "Wish me luck..."

"Don't worry, Fox, you'll win, I'm sure of it."

Fox noticed that Bill's voice sounded eerily confident, as if he knew something that he didn't. He faced his friend once more and was met with a complimentary expression of assurance.

"Just give it your best."

"I will... thanks Bill.

After Fox had finished with his words, he climbed up a nearby set of movable stairs and into his designated cockpit. It was a standard Cornerian fighter, used mainly for training purposes, but also for a limited degree of support roles. The aircraft were fitted with training weapons, which fired unguided low energy bolts that would pose no true harm to either of them. After a brief scan throughout the different panels of the cockpit, Fox nodded and gave a thumbs up to Bill.

"Remember, Fox, we're counting on you."

"I know." The vulpine closed the window to his cockpit, the sound of compressed air being squeezed out of it's confined spaces hissed among the edges of his seat. This was it, Falco's acceptance into the operation hinged on this very moment. Fox calmed his nerves.

"Pepper Base tower, this is Fire-breather Two, requesting departure from airfield, over."

Fox waited a few moments before an answer came.

"Oh, Fox, you don't have to sound so formal."

The vulpine grinned upon hearing the voice on the other side speak to him. "Hey, beautiful, what's the wind like today?"

"Wind is currently heading four knots to the southeast, shouldn't be much of a problem." Krystal replied.

"Thanks. Permission to kick Fire-breather One's ass?"

"Permission granted, Fire-breather Two. Proceed to light him up." 

"Copy that, Krystal. Fire-breather Two, out."

Fox engaged the vertical thrust and began to pull out from his grounded position. He turned his fighter sideways and adjusted the thrust vector gradually until it reached zero degrees, straight forward. He picked up speed until he was moving at an acceptable rate, then he searched around for any sign of his temporary foe. A small bit of searching revealed Falco's ship to be flying straight and level a decent distance away from him, over the gathering crowd. Fox casually banked the craft into a light turn, flicking the stick back once he had pointed himself in the other fighter's direction.

Falco took notice of this, and slowed down so that the two could fly together in a close formation. As their ships neared, Falco signaled to Fox with a number of gestures, alerting him that he'd soon turn around so the fight could begin. Fox nodded, and before long, Falco swerved away from the level path, screeching away from him in a blinding speed.

"Showoff..." Fox muttered, taking another deep breath. A few seconds passed. He turned behind him and saw that his opponent was a tiny dot amidst the pale gray sky. Mentally counting the seconds, he pulled back hard on the stick and looped around, speeding up towards growing figure in the distance.

Once they passed, they'd be in combat, friend against friend, in the deciding match.

Fox twitched slightly, his reaction time felt somewhat hindered by his nervous demeanor. Though he knew that he had to do this, or else Falco would never join them in their excursion to Fortuna. 

He could the now make the outline of the other fighter, as it moved closer, its swept wings came into view. Above and below, the tension had reached its highest point; the pilots held their breath, and the crowd did the same.

And then they passed. Fox pulled back on the throttle until it reached idle, and jerked his stick towards the side in order to change the direction of his momentum. Though the maneuver was executed fairly well, Falco had planned for such an event, and had instead increased power and climbed to a higher altitude. Fox had little time to react once he'd turned around, as Falco had already accelerated to the point where the vulpine would be unable to catch up to him. Fox overshot his adversary, squeezing the trigger a few times in vain as the other fighter soared past him faster than he could pull his slow moving ship towards its changing direction.

This move put Fox into a disadvantage, as he was now at a slow speed and facing the wrong direction. Fox knew he had to change that quick, or else Falco would soon be on his six. As he cocked his head to see behind him, he already noticed that Falco was in the middle of a tight turn directly towards him, which was not a good sign. Fox desperately tried to evade the approaching fighter by increasing power and pulling his craft down towards the ground in order to gain speed, but Falco had anticipated this movement, and had already begun to fire a flurry of shots in Fox's direction by the time they crossed the same altitude.

Fox tensed as a loud bang could be heard rattling his craft. A quick check for confirmation proved that he'd been hit once by one of Falco's many shots. If he didn't get back in this game soon, he'd be finished. The vulpine inverted his ship and added full power, attempting to escape the rest of Falco's incoming barrage. It worked for the most part, as the bird failed to turn inside of his movement and was soon left with nothing but the empty ground in between his sights. 

Each of the fighters broke off, with Fox trying his best to escape his attacker and Falco doing his best to follow him. After a few moments of relatively straight flight, Fox turned behind him to see Falco's ship oddly lagging behind, as if somehow its capabilities were lesser than that of Fox's. Though of course, both of them knew this to be impossible, as they were flying the same model, and the only perceivable difference in mass or thrust was that of the pilots themselves.

After he'd gained a significant amount of breathing room, Fox made his move. He swiftly carried his fighter into a corkscrew motion, moving equally in horizontal and vertical directions. This confused Falco, who merely followed after the opposing aircraft in hopes that Fox had no idea what he was doing. The vulpine continued the swirling motions until he was sure he was ready to make the move, in a single motion, he engaged the vector thrust to its limit of a hundred and ten degrees. It took a while before Falco truly understood what was going on, Fox was moving backwards! 

The motions continued until the odd direction of the thrust caused the craft to flip over, pointing him precisely in the direction of the oncoming fighter. Each pilot twitched against the trigger, sending wave after wave of fire in the direction of their opponent. Since Falco was already moving at such a high speed, each movement had to be adjusted to match the vulpine's position, meaning that whenever he aimed directly at him, the bolts carried over with the velocity of its mother ship and missed without coming close; however, since Fox was moving relatively still, all he had to do was lead his aim to where he figured Falco would soon be, and press the trigger.

A group of three bolts streaked across Falco's fighter, one of them grazed across his aileron and causing a single light on the his panel's hit markers to light up.

Two to go.

After Falco had passed Fox's position, he knew that now was the time to turn the advantage back in his favor. He performed a Split S maneuver, inverting his craft and making a half-loop downwards so that he could head back in the direction he was supposed to be. In their heated engagement, the two had nearly forgotten that they had a nearby crowd to please, so collectively, Fox and Falco steered their fighters back towards the airfield where thousands lay waiting.

Falco felt a rattle destabilize one of his wings. He looked to his left where he felt the strange vibration coming from, but he couldn't see any visible damage. This short pause gave Fox the time he needed to begin a wide turn in an attempt to cut inside Falco's path, and it would've worked well, if Falco didn't react by doing the same.

From then on, it was a battle to see who could turn inside of who. After each loop, the two fighters crossed each other, nearly colliding, but never reaching an angle where one could fire accurately on the other. Each pilot looked carefully at their displays, meticulously adjusting the throttle to match their ever-differing corner speeds.

Fox looked above him to see Falco's fighter beginning to turn inwards once again. He would need to slow down, or else Falco would soon be positioned on his six. Closer they came, until each fighter was pointing directly at the other. They released a storm of fire, frantically trying to land shots on their fast approaching enemy. The two fighters broke off a moment before crashing into each other, they spun away in a magnificent pivoting motion, assuring that each would be ready for whatever maneuver would be executed next.

The crowd gave a wild cheer as the nearby scoreboard flashed on both ends, revealing that each pilot had one hit left before they'd be eliminated from the fight. Meanwhile in his cockpit, Fox gave a nervous glance at his own panel, which had just activated his second hit marker. He groaned and turned his head behind him to see Falco gaining altitude as he headed in the opposite direction, if he was going to win, he'd need to do something crazy, something unexpected. With the same fighters and relatively same skill, there'd be no telling who'd win in a turning battle. He looked up near the thin layer of clouds, and then realized what he had to do.

He'd never attempted something like this before, but maybe that meant it would be the perfect move to pull on Falco. Eagerly, he pointed his fighter towards the clouds and pulled back on the throttle. He barely skimmed above the layer of water vapor, slowing down once he'd crested the top so that Falco wouldn't be able to see what was going on.

He moved his paw to the front-left side of the cockpit's panel and disengaged the low velocity balancing system, which adjusted the angle of attack and kept the fighters from entering stalls at low speeds, and then, he cut the throttle, and waited to come to a stop. Once he was slow enough and his nose began to dip below the cloudy horizon, he pushed the right pedal with his foot so that the fighter would rotate and enter a spin.

His craft began to wobble unevenly as the craft turned violently in short circles and started to descend. He went into the clouds, still unable to see where Falco had positioned himself. The maneuver would require the bird to already headed in his direction, if he was too far away and didn't bite the bait, Fox would have to escape the spin and continue from there. The clouds began to disperse, giving way to the clear skies and valleys below, but not yet revealing the frame of an approaching fighter.

Fox searched around him for any sign of Falco, not an easy task while spinning around. Before he knew it, Falco's ship came into view, and it way too close for comfort. Fox frantically pulled the trigger as fast as he could, shooting bolts out in all directions as he spiraled down uncontrollably. Falco's fighter did the same, but not until he'd closed an enormous distance. At this point, Fox could do little more than hope that one of the stray shots released during his desperate attempt at a stall would manage to hit the confused pilot.

He braced himself as he felt his fighter shake, the shields fizzling off the remains of a direct hit. He pulled out of the spin by applying the left rudder and easing the nose forward, before examining his panel. As he saw the screen in front of him, his heart skipped a beat. He couldn't believe it, he'd been hit, he was out.

All hope was lost. Or so he thought.

As he pulled his fighter away and returned it to the state of leveled flight, he reached for his on-board radio. But before he was able to pick it up and say anything into it, he heard a voice yelling across his headset in an excited manner.

"Fox! Fox!" He heard Bill yelling from the other side.

"Bill, I-"

"You did it, Fox. You beat him!" Bill said with a proud tone.

"I- I-"

"You don't understand. You both shot each other, but you hit him first. Fox, you won."

~X~X~X~X~X~

Fox stepped off of the mobile ladder platform which had been rushed over to the side of the recently landed fighter by a large number of aircrew personnel. As the vulpine's feet contacted the concrete surface, he was greeted by Bill, who was now running over to meet him.

"Nice flying, Fox. Looks like you showed him."

Fox nodded, though his expressions were somewhat withheld. "Yeah, I know. I was worried a little there... I knew he wouldn't win." He said, aided by the clear confidence of hindsight.

"I did too... hey, there he is now." Bill pointed to the approaching figure of Falco who had also stepped off his fighter moments before.

As the two opposing pilots came closer, they stared each other in the eyes. Falco's expression was solemn, and carried with it an internal sense of anger. He stopped in front of the vulpine, taking a deep breath.

"You know, Fox. This is usually the time when I'd come up with some excuse or some reason why I didn't win. But..." He paused, not knowing entirely what to say.

"You're a damn good pilot, Fox." He uttered begrudgingly, immediately stumbling away without another word.

"He'll probably be complaining about the fight all the way to Fortuna." Bill joked, slapping Fox on the back. "Oh, and Krystal's waiting for you at the airbase command."

"Thanks." Fox replied, still trying to catch his breath. "Where are you going?"

"I need to make a call." Bill answered, pointing to his wrist. "I'll be at your house with Falco tomorrow, we'll pack your things and leave the next day."

Fox nodded. "Thanks, Bill..."

The veteran bulldog retreated to an area near the hangers where he felt he wouldn't be heard. He searched around him to make sure that he was alone, and then he made the call.

"Hello? General? Yes, it's me again... Yes, it did go as planned, he won... it was close, but he pulled out in the end."

Bill took one more glance before returning to the conversation.

"No sir, no one else knows..." He smiled and then nodded, knowing that the officer on the other end wouldn't be able to receive his gesture.

"Yes... Yes, General Sommers, thank you again, I'm not sure if our plans would've succeeded if we hadn't sabotaged Lombardi's ship."

~X~X~X~X~X~


End file.
